It had been, for all intents and purposes, a normal day. Even with the holidays over, Ben had taken the minimum amount of days off to celebrate before going back to work at the Ministry. With the offices nearly empty, it was a good excuse to get some of the leftover paperwork done. He’d even told Prewett he’d help finish off some of the reports so Prewett could have some more time with his family. Ben’s mother and step-father hadn’t minded the shorter stay, or at least that’s what he told himself. Had pretended to not notice the flicker of disappointment in Cecilia Bancroft’s eyes as Ben told her he could only stay for a day or two before getting back to work.

But that’s how Ben preferred it nowadays. There was no use in pretending nothing was amiss. No use in refusing to accept that the person he’d have been spending the most time with during the holidays was someone who had staunchly rejected any sort of contact with him. And at the end of the day, could Ben really blame him? He’d been key in ruining Ari’s life; that much was apparent from the way he’d been pushed away. Now the only thing he could do was accept it and try to move on.

Not that he’d been doing such a good job of it. In the two years since it happened, it had only been injury after injury; hospital visit after hospital visit. Punishing himself the only way he knew how; by taking the brunt of blows, curses, jinxes, anything that he could when he was on assignment with Gillespie. He knew she’d wondered what the hell was going on; she was too smart to not notice, especially when they sparred together. But she also knew better than to push too far because if he had to focus too long on what was the matter, he might have broken.

So instead Ben had said nothing, kept his head down and outwardly pretended as if nothing was amiss.

And of course, nothing was amiss. At least today, when he’d gotten home from working at the office and looked to decompress by some good old menial work in the stables. He’d just been cleaning out Ajax’s stall when the owl landed next to him. At first he brushed it off, quite harshly because he was in no mood to be interrupted. But then the owl hooted once more before taking flight from it’s perch on the hay bale and landing on his shoulder. Now, of course, he had to pay attention. Throwing down the pitchfork, Ben cursed quietly before snatching the letter out of the owl’s grasp and looking at it.

When he saw the handwriting, he stopped dead in his tracks, not even realizing the owl had already flown off to leave him alone again. He tore open the envelope like a man starved, collapsing onto the hay bale that the owl had just vacated, and began to read. It hadn’t occurred to him that this letter might have been a final one, one to say good bye forever. He just wanted to drink up whatever Ari had to say.

The first few words hit him with the force of an erumpet. Not a lot of time, what does he mean not a lot of time? Ben raced through the letter. Better than Ive been without you, anyway. There was absolutely no way he could think that Ben was happy like this, could he? Practically walking about the world as half a man. There was no way.

It should have pleased Ben to know that Ari’s train of thought was almost exactly equal to Ben’s, and that they’d each sought to punish themselves in their own way for the misery that their actions had caused. But instead it was like wound to his heart, a wound to his mind to think about what Ari had possibly forced himself through. “You stupid, idiotic man!” Ben swore, his eyes stinging hot. Whether he was talking to himself or Ari he didn’t know; he hadn’t realized he’d spoken loud. Only the soft snort in response of his horse was evidence of it.

But that wasn’t all. Ari was checking himself into an institution. An institution. Like an institution for the mad? Ben’s heart thrummed an erratic pace in his chest. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t have visitors, or be able to write. Did that mean he wanted Ben to write? And…and to visit him? He read the rest of the letter, but barely processed any of it apart from the ending salutation. Those words, he read over and over again, committing them to memory because his life depended upon it. He read the entire letter over again until he couldn’t because tears had streamed down his cheeks and threatened to smudge the letter that he’d carry next to his heart until the time came when he could see Ari again. He sobbed until past when night had fallen and he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

He would see Ari soon. If my treatment goes well… He’d written.

When Ben woke up and the frost had even permeated inside of the barn, he nearly ripped open the envelope again to read it once more, afraid that everything up until this point had just been a dream. Or a nightmare, the result of a curse destined to torture him for the remainder of his days. But no. Ari’s writing was still there. He’d be checking himself in later today. How long until he’d be able to see him?

In his half dazed state, Ben shot up and hurried to the tack room where he found a quill and half-dried bottle of ink where he scratched out his response.

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